Five Years a Secret, Now I Deny We Ever Met Chapter 02

Five Years a Secret, Now I Deny We Ever Met Chapter 02

Rage. Disappointment. The sheer absurdity of it all.

And the suffocating feeling of being betrayed by the whole world, dropped into an icy vacuum. Isabella’s breezy “best arrangement” was a poisoned needle, piercing my ears and fraying my last nerve.

I wrenched my arm free and walked away without a word. Between the towering shelves, the scent of old ink mingled with the cloying, hypocritical perfume of the elite, making my stomach churn.

Back at the dorm, I ran into Sarah. When she saw my ashen face, she frowned. “Chloe? You look like death warmed over. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I forced a smile. My voice came out hoarse, unrecognizable. “Thesis, you know. I need to spend the night in the archives. I need absolute quiet.”

I used my only armor, my work, to hide the fact that my world was falling apart.

Sarah didn’t question it, only patted my shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

I nodded and hurried deep into the library, toward the special archives room reserved for honors students.

No one was there. The only sound was the faint hum of the climate-control system. I swiped my key card and locked the heavy wooden door behind me, shutting the world out.

I set down my backpack and took out the thick stack of manuscripts.

They were the private research notes on the Uffizi Gallery that I had compiled for Sebastian over countless sleepless nights. They contained my hypotheses about unpublished archives, proposals for collection restoration, and the academic blueprint we had sketched out together.

On the title page was a line he had written in fountain pen: *To my only muse. Our future begins in Florence.*

I had once naively believed that after graduation, we would fly to Italy together and turn every word in that manuscript into reality. He would lead the project, and I would be the most capable research partner at his side—the lover he’d proudly introduce to the world.

Now, there was no place for me in that future.

Expressionless, I opened the manuscript and started from the first page. The annotations in his familiar hand, which had once made my heart race, now seemed like nothing but cruel irony.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t even tremble.

I simply tore them apart, calmly, page by page.

The sound of ripping paper in the silent room was a solemn farewell.

Then I poured the scraps—five years of my youth and dreams—into the shredder in the corner.

The machine whirred to life, its low roar swallowing our future and grinding it to dust.

By the time I returned to the dorm, dawn was breaking.

Sarah was still asleep. I walked quietly to my desk, and my gaze fell on the silver picture frame.

It was a photo from junior year, when the three of us went to an exhibition at the Met. In the picture, Isabella had her arm linked intimately through mine, smiling brightly at the camera. “When Chloe becomes a famous art historian and a museum director,” she was shouting, “I’m going to be her biggest sponsor!”

Sebastian stood on my other side. His gaze passed over Isabella and landed on me, a private smile in his eyes that only I could understand.

I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath.

Then I swept the frame, photo and all, into the trash can.

After that, I opened my laptop and logged into my cloud drive.

In the shared folder named “C&S Project” were all the course notes, travel plans, and paper drafts we had written together, along with hundreds of photos from the past five years that had never seen the light of day.

I selected the folder. Right-clicked. Chose “Permanently Delete.”

A warning box popped up: *Are you sure you want to permanently delete these files? This action cannot be undone.*

Without hesitation, I clicked confirm.

The progress bar raced across the screen, a countdown to the end of my five years of stupidity.

When it was done, I emptied the shredded paper and the picture frame into a large black garbage bag and tied it shut.

I needed to remove this trash from my world completely.

The night air was chilly as I carried the heavy bag out of the dorm.

By the driveway, beneath that familiar oak tree, a figure leaned against a black Land Rover, a nearly extinguished cigarette between his fingers.

Sebastian.

When he saw me, he crushed the cigarette under his heel and strode over, his face etched with impatient exhaustion. Out of habit, he reached for my hand, and for the garbage bag.

It was a silent understanding we had developed long ago.

But this time, I recoiled, pulling away from his touch.

His hand froze in midair. His handsome brows drew together, a flash of surprise in his eyes.

I met his searching gaze, my voice as cold as the wind. “Sebastian, all of Auden knows you’re engaged. We need to maintain a proper social distance. From now on, unless it’s a public occasion, please don’t contact me privately.”

He stared for a moment, then let out a short, scoffing laugh, as if he’d heard something unbelievably childish.

“Chloe, stop making a scene.” He slid his hand into his pocket, his tone condescending, like he was soothing a petulant child.

“The marriage is a business arrangement, a maneuver to help Isabella’s family bypass the board’s investigation. Once this blows over, we’ll figure out a way to resolve it.”

He stepped closer, his eyes holding that unquestionable authority I was once so infatuated with.

“Other people might not get it, but you should understand the bigger picture. Don’t be so emotional.”